german streets
by deltaranger79
Summary: this isnt actually about saving private ryan but is set in he same scene


German streets

the street smelled of backed up sewage and blood a fresh patch was right below him. The pool he was lying in belonged to his spotter recently picked off by a lucky shot from a kraut before he put a bullet through his neck spraying blood and various chunks of flesh all along the side all. 7 dead bodies lie dead at the base of the 5 story building, the tallest building in this division. He was here waiting for a armored division of American troops to pull through and spear head the attack into the heart of Germany. The tanks were supposed to roll from the border 3 days ago and he had been lying on this danm roof for that whole time to keep the streets clear of mortar teams or snipers that might pose a serious threat to commanders that would be walking or riding in open top jeeps. The stench got more powerful as the day went on the sun slowly baking the blood giving it a new smell and a new color, a darkish purple. As he let his thoughts wandered he became aware of the sound of a heavy diesel engine rumbling its way towards him. But it was coming from the east not the west. Slowly rolling over a small hill he saw first the tan top of the German tank standing about 8 feet tall with a stubby barrel it looked like a fat child with a cigar more than a war machine. But looks can be deceiving. Rolling ever onward the tank left small indentations in the ground of its treads, an easy target to track. The engine revved down and slowly turned off as the tank came to a stop at a building about 40 20 feet from wear he lay. He could see the buildings door open and a little lady run out. She was old about 50 and wearing the garb of a German whistle blower then to his horror he saw her point in his direction to the tank commander popping his torso out of the tank. A swift move of his .303 caliber rifle brought the muzzle to bear with the dot in the scope aiming right above her heart with a loud crack that sounded as if it was from god the woman was lift off her feet and thrown to the pavement screaming and squirting blood. The commander looked at her not in shock or in pity but more in a fashion that wanted her to shut up. That was the last look he had on his face before the top of his head was cleanly ripped into 2 by the armor piercing high velocity bullet that passed through him and took a rather large chunk off the nearby wall.. The debry coated the screaming woman giving her bloodied skirt a freckled image. the body of the commander was then dragged into the tank and the hatch closed it started to pull into reverse firing 2 random shots that blasted through peoples abandoned homes and apartments a bit farther down the street nothing he was worried about. the tank kept rolling oblivious to the fact that the screaming woman had flayed her left leg right behind the track. The grinding of bone wasn't quite drowned out by the tanks engine leaving every one that came to see what the shots were with a sick soul wrenching feeling. A sigh fell from his mouth as the tank disappeared over the hill only then did he bring his rifle to bear on the woman again and shot her once in the head to end her suffering. Even the Nazi sympathizers did not deserve such a death as that. The tank sounds faded and people came out to pick up the woman with their hands up trying to look as if they did not act as her. He never would shoot at one of them in cold blood as they assumed he would but what could you expect when you grew up with the Nazis?

Another day another notch on his soul. The screaming never stopped not until the war was over then it would scream in his head. When he told people of what he did that day he was called a killer of women but they could never understand they would always be naive to what happened there and what they could not understand the ridiculed and called evil even through to being an old man he was harassed by people that thought he was a monster. But they never had to lie in their friend's blood for days thinking it was your fault he was dead.

The crack of his rifle still dwindled in his ears never giving him rest.


End file.
